


freshwater

by softlyblue



Series: requests <3 [7]
Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Magical Realism, Wood Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyblue/pseuds/softlyblue
Summary: Jo Haseul is the carer of the woods.Of course, that isn’t her only job. On weekday evenings she goes into the village, where she’s part of a freestyle zumba class (her, her instructor, Old Lady Elaine from down the town, and two nine-year-old twin boys called Toddy and Toby. She also runs milk deliveries for the fishermen, who don’t charge much at all for the squid-ink milk bottles (healing properties, very nice in tea), and when she’s got a moment free she fills in surveys online for spare change.So correction: Jo Haseul is the carer of the woods, the dancer of zumba, the deliverer of milk, and the filler of surveys.





	freshwater

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for the lovely @minrengiii on twitter, who gave me the excuse to finally write my best girls!! i hope you enjoy this little peek into their life x

As she walks through the little wood her knitting trails after her, a ball of wool holding itself upright from the mud and two clacking needles busy at work. It doesn’t matter how many times Haseul tells them she’s fine, really - the wool basket (and everything living in it) has decided she needs protection, and so every time she ventures out they follow her, knitting weapons out of soft yarn and colourful thread. 

“Thank you,” she says, when a needle taps her on the shoulder and the pair of it hands her a knitted plush toy; an angry lion, about the size of her hands. “Very scary! You can go home now. I’m sure he’ll protect me.”

The knitting wraps itself up in the remainder of the yarn, oozing smugness at a job well done, and shoots back the way Haseul’s come, back to her little cottage in the woods. She looks down at the lion, who, bereft of the support of the needles and yarn, cowers in her palm with his paws over his eyes. He’s making a little whimpering noise. 

“Oh, dear,” Haseul sighs sympathetically at him. “Do you want to go home, too?”

The lion shakes his head stubbornly, and crawls into the pocket of her grey skirt, where she can feel him tangling in the string there, and growling at the packet of gummies in the shape of birds she bought last market. Haseul has to fight the urge to laugh at him, but she knows woollen creatures are very protective over their pride, so she keeps her hands out of her pockets and continues what she was doing before the little interruption - checking on the freshair koi fish, who treat this little patch of space in the forest as their own airpool. They splash through mist, and graze on nettles and blackberry bushes, but as of late Haseul’s suspected they’re eating some poisonous berry or other. They don’t swim through the skies as they used to. 

Jo Haseul is the carer of the woods. 

Of course, that isn’t her only job. On weekday evenings she goes into the village, where she’s part of a freestyle zumba class (her, her instructor, Old Lady Elaine from down the town, and two nine-year-old twin boys called Toddy and Toby. She also runs milk deliveries for the fishermen, who don’t charge much at all for the squid-ink milk bottles (healing properties, very nice in tea), and when she’s got a moment free she fills in surveys online for spare change. 

So correction: Jo Haseul is the carer of the woods, the dancer of zumba, the deliverer of milk, and the filler of surveys. 

“Haseul!”

And the friend of people in the woods. 

Haseul looks up, her elfin features creasing into a smile as she sees the girl sitting on a tree branch, swinging her legs, a freshair koi dancing around her tumbling curly hair, another fish playing with her fringe, another teasing at her slender fingertips. “Hello,” Haseul calls, her hands cupped around her mouth. “How are my fish?”

Viian kisses her palm and blows on it, sending a little bubble of pink mist down to Haseul, where it pops on her nose and showers her in love. She’s one of the creatures of the wood, like Haseul herself, but where Haseul dresses in her grey skirts and waistcoats spilling pockets, mice living in her sleeves and leaves trailing in her hair, Viian acts very differently. She’s a treetop being by nature, in pale pink ruffles and thin shirts and cotton socks, her hair brown at the roots and pale-peach pink at the tips, her eyes vanishing under the force of her smile every time she sees Haseul. This is definitely one of Haseul’s favourite things about being the carer of the woods. 

“Your fish are fine,” Viian pats the branch beside her, “Come and sit by me!”

Haseul gives herself a second to flush, because it doesn’t matter how long she’s known Viian, the girl will always fluster her just by smiling at her - just by enjoying being in her company. Haseul likes to pride herself on keeping things together, on being cool and organised, but Viian sees through her with a smile and a giggle and a wave of her delicate hand. 

The tree Viian is sitting in must hear her request, because she uncurls her aged, wise branches and forms a sort of cocoon, ivy leaves wrapping around the bottom to form a firm seat, a few spare strands beckoning Haseul forwards. Koi fish flap around the basket, making faint  _ blub-blub  _ noises Haseul can hear over the background noise of the forest, alive. 

“Thank you,” Haseul murmurs to the tree, stepping into the cocoon gently so as not to snap any leaves, the knitted lion in her pocket growling uncertainly as the tree starts to pull them up to Viian. 

Viian seems to smile at her, her eyes bright and sparkling. “I missed you yesterday.”

“I was in the village,” Haseul says, wriggling onto Viian’s branch, grabbing onto the other girl’s arm for balance. “I had things to do…”

“I still missed you,” Viian puts her hand on Haseul’s. A curious fish bumps against their knuckles, and the lion in Haseul’s pocket makes a begrudgingly satisfied  _ harrumph  _ noise. “Are you going back in again today?”

“I don’t think so,” Haseul looks at the place where they touch. Technicalities, technicalities… Haseul the witch and Viian the sprite, sitting in a tree, watching the fish swim through the air. “I think I’m here to stay for a while.”

Viian can’t leave the woods. It’s one of the unfortunate downsides of being a sprite so deeply connected to the place, and one of the only reasons she and Haseul ever spend time apart. Viian aches to leave, and it hurts Haseul to see her try and bounce away, but the sprite is so much a product of her own surroundings that it seems madness to take her away from it. Haseul can’t imagine Viian anywhere else but here. 

After a little wriggling, the knitted lion gets out of Haseul’s pocket and steps gingerly into mid air, his paws planting on space like there’s grass there and not emptiness. Given a new curiosity, the freshair koi all swarm him, and the lion makes a sound not unlike a laugh before bounding away through the pool of wind and cloud, his little floppy tail bouncing behind him. The fish give chase, delighted at a new game. 

“See?” Viian says lightly, “They’re feeling better already, with you here.”

“You’re a charmer,” Haseul hits her shoulder, but playfully. She can feel herself turning red - she always did blush easy. 

In the woods, the koi fish swim through the air, and a knitted lion chases his own tail, and an old, solemn tree tucks her leaves primly away like an old lady flapping at her skirts. And high, high in a branch, away from the eyes of anyone that might see them, the witch of the woods and the sprite of the woods hold hands, share a kiss, and smile. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> my twitter is @sweetlyblue and you can email me for enquiries or anything at softlyblues@gmail.com <3


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